


God Plus R̶a̶b̶b̶i̶t̶ Fox Equals Pandemonium

by CynicalMistrust



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Alternate Historical Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, M/M, Neil's smart mouth, Reverse Big Bang Challenge, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:20:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29811810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynicalMistrust/pseuds/CynicalMistrust
Summary: Andrew is a god. Neil is on the run. There's magic, intrigue, war, and maybe a happy ending.
Relationships: (Past) Kevin Day/Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Kevin Day/Jeremy Knox/Jean Moreau, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 6
Kudos: 82





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to the AFTGRBB2021 - will be fully posted by the 17th
> 
> Art links and such to come as it's updated

Andrew sat in his leather wing-back chair near the fireplace, watching the flames. He'd started counting down the hours until he had his peace and quiet back the moment the others started bickering at the table. Even if they met only twice a year - sometimes more these days - it was still too much time to spend with the other gods without a reprieve or six. 

But Dionysus - Nicky, as he preferred to be called for the past few decades - refused to let them all lose touch with each other. Human sentimentality had rubbed off on him ages ago. Andrew blamed that on Erik, who he was pretty sure was a reborn Eros. He wasn't sure what Erik's original form was, but considering the way Nicky fawned over him and how much Erik enjoyed being outdoors, he'd likely started as a nature god. 

Their time being worshiped as deities meant those names were easiest to remember, but they'd all existed before then. 

After eons of being stuck with each other, being reborn was the only way they had to break out of the monotonous cycle of existence. So every once in a while, one of them would disappear for a few years and turn up again in a new body. The only drawback was, sometimes the memories and powers didn't come back in their next life. 

Seth had once ended up reborn three times in a row before finally coming back to them. That'd been a peaceful couple of centuries. 

Andrew had been reborn a handful of times, but rarely did he receive the blessing of losing his memories. 

He glanced to the table where the others were picking over the last of their desserts. Whatever they were arguing over had Aphrod-Allison in a huffy mood, but Andrew immediately tuned them back out. He tapped the end of his cigarette into the ashtray and took a drink of whiskey. 

Trying to remember dozens of different names for each of them was getting to be a bit much, even for him. As civilization evolved, they took more modern names and started residing in the more populated areas. Or maybe it was more that humans and other sentient creatures had expanded enough to encroach on their territory. 

Granted, his home had a barrier a few miles in diameter to keep anyone from wandering in, but the other gods interacted with humans on a regular basis these days. The Flying Spaghetti Monster could even be traced back to a night of Nicky being bored and getting too drunk. Even Kevin had ended up making a new name for himself a few decades ago, when his lifetimes-old feud with Ares destroyed most of a city. 

Kevin had been “not hiding” in Andrew’s domain ever since. 

Andrew flicked the butt of his cigarette into the fire and reached up to scratch a finger against McNugget's chest. The answering rumbled trill was familiar, as was the beak rummaging through his hair a moment later. 

"Dessert?" Renee asked, approaching with a bowl of ice cream. He accepted the bowl and watched her settle in a chair across from him. "How're you feeling?" 

"About?" 

She flicked her fingers in a vague, general indicator. 

He took a bite of ice cream, pausing to pour some whiskey over it, before taking another. “They’re tolerable," he finally said. The fact she was even asking was a bit suspicious, especially when it came with an offering of ice cream, but it was also Renee. She was the goddess once known as Khaos for a reason. 

She sighed and propped her chin on her fist, glancing at the others with a fond smile. "Thank you for putting up with them." 

"You realize you're one of them." 

Her smile widened. "You could be, too." 

"Blasphemy. I'd rather-" He froze as he felt something break through his barrier, a muffled _pop_ sensation at the back of his mind. Not large, small enough to be a single human. Which should have been impossible. 

He set the bowl aside and stood, moving to the closest exit and throwing open the French doors leading to the garden. 

Biting, wintry air rushed in and effectively stopped the friendly squabbling at the table, but he was too focused to appreciate the silence. 

With a chirp, McNugget launched off his shoulder and grew, returning to the normal size for a griffin. He hopped onto her back, the rush of air as she lifted off the ground not quite drowning out Nicky's worried shouting. 

Andrew ignored him in favor of guiding McNugget towards the breach, slipping a dagger free from the band on his arm as they neared the southern edge of the forest.

He circled twice, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary at that height. He looked past the barrier, towards the city that grew a little closer every year. There were rumors that Ares had been reborn into the war-faring Moriyama clan, but no solid proof had been found yet. If Ares was there, he'd either lost his memories or was hiding himself well. 

When he saw no signs of others approaching, Andrew turned back to finding the intruder. Once McNugget was close enough to the ground, Andrew hopped down, landing silently in a crouch. He wrapped shadows around himself, hiding his presence under the blanket of night. 

His barrier was a few feet away. The magic that kept it invisible and untouchable by any but the most powerful of mages still flickered from the recent breach. 

He scanned the area, noticing the crushed plants even in the dark. He followed the wreckage, ignoring the irritation of his domain being violated for the moment; plants could be tended and healed. He caught the scent of smoke and scorched magic, following it to a prone figure on the ground. 

A demi-human, judging by the floppy ears. That might explain how they'd gotten past the barrier, but that shouldn’t have been enough to let them through. 

Andrew eyed the intruder, the sharp tang of blood occasionally breaking through the ozone stench of abused magic. A pained whimper finally gave signs of life and he stepped close enough to crouch next to the creature. Torn clothes were soaked through with blood in several places. Pale skin ended at their elbows, where it turned to what looked like charred flesh, the source of both the smoke and ozone smell. 

He glanced at the intruder’s face to find half-open eyes watching him. 

“Are you going to kill me?” the intruder asked, his voice hoarse and raspy like his throat was damaged.

“Should I?” Andrew asked. He tapped the point of his blade against the ground between his feet, deciding the threat level was low. 

The intruder’s lips twitched and he coughed on what might have been an attempt to laugh. “Probably.”

That was interesting, enough so that when the intruder passed out a moment later, Andrew probed a bit deeper with his magic. Beneath the strange twist of abused magic in their burned arms, he found the familiar core of an eternal. 

Similar to the immortal gods who were born of cosmic forces, eternals were souls that had fused with the elemental magics of the world. Andrew had met a dozen of them through the ages, but one in particular kept crossing his path. Most of the time, the embodiment of the heart of fire was trouble with a capital T, and there were lifetimes Andrew didn’t have the patience to seek them out. 

Ironically, whenever the heart of fire appeared in the world, they always seemed to be running from something. Sometimes they didn’t get far before whatever it was caught up to them. Sometimes they delayed the inevitable only to repeat the tragedy of Achilles. If their path crossed Andrew’s early enough, they had a better chance of surviving their fate.

When Andrew’s magic brushed against the core, he was rewarded with the quiet thrum of recognition. Apparently, the heart of fire was on the run again. At least that explained how the intruder had gotten past his barrier so easily; only gods and eternals could pass without significant firepower. This one in particular was keyed to the barrier to allow passage without resistance. 

What little elation he was capable of was met with an equal amount of resigned acceptance. Whatever was after the heart this time was powerful enough to leave him a mangled mess, but then, Andrew had never had much faith in the flame's ability to dodge. 

He slipped his dagger back into its sheath so he could drag the unconscious demi-human to his home. At least his brother was on hand. Having a god of healing around would prove useful for once.


	2. Chapter 2

Consciousness came in fleeting moments of sensations. An all-enveloping darkness. Spasms of pain. The sharp scent of crushed herbs. Hands on his body that triggered his survival instinct enough to fight, and shouted words he couldn’t comprehend. Shadowed shapes that he was sure were people, but they were too distorted to be sure. 

There was a brief moment of absolute clarity as he stared at the ceiling, when he knew he was no longer in his father’s cellar. The ceiling was too pristine. No cracks. No stains from old blood splatters that were too high to bother cleaning. He didn’t know where he was, but the simple fact that his father was no longer in his immediate vicinity meant it didn’t matter. He was vaguely aware of a soft bed beneath him, so he gave up the subconscious urge to run, letting exhaustion finally take hold completely. 

The next time he woke, he felt more himself. More aware of both his body and his surroundings, enough to keep still when he heard voices.

“-a curse and you know it,” someone snapped, sounding annoyed. “He’s as healed as I can get him.”

The silence that followed was long enough he started to wonder if the man had been talking to himself, but then another voice said, “Leave.”

Someone huffed before moving away, and a door opened and closed. 

He didn’t dare move, aware of someone staring at him intensely enough he itched with the need to run again. He was sure there was a window across from him. He might be able to jump out of it if he were fast enough. 

“Stop pretending to be asleep.”

He tensed, slowly cracking his eyes open and looking around until he spotted a blond midget sitting backwards in a chair. His attention immediately went to the knife the man was flicking between his fingers, tensing as a shudder of revulsion traveled through his entire body. 

The blond paused before tucking the knife away, the blade disappearing beneath a black arm sleeve. He leaned forward, resting an arm over the back of his chair and rocking it onto two legs. "Name," he said. 

Instead of answering, he pressed his lips together and tested his body, pushing himself into a sitting position. There wasn’t as much pain as he expected, considering he’d been carved up like a festival dinner. There wasn’t any pain at all, actually, and a peek at his stomach showed only the faintest scar where he’d been all but gutted. 

The clothes he wore weren't his and were two sizes too big. When he pushed the long sleeves up, he saw the dark blue of his curse still lingering on his forearms. He hadn't been out more than a night then, but that wasn't exactly in his favor at the moment. 

For a day and a half after using his magic, the curse was active, which meant he couldn't outright lie. He could evade or bend the truth if he was careful, but exhaustion still clung tightly enough to his limbs that it would take more effort than usual. 

“Name,” the man said again. 

"You first." The lack of a direct question meant he didn't have to answer, even though it might annoy the man. He still wasn't sure if the blond was a neutral party or an enemy. 

"Andrew," the man replied, falling silent as he watched and waited. 

"...Neil." That was the name he'd come up with two years ago, when he first started making real plans to escape. He hadn't thought he'd ever get the chance, or to get very far if he did, but watching his mother die had turned into his chance for freedom. Whatever he'd been lacking before, the sight and weight and smell of her blood on his hands was all it took for his magic to finally answer his call. 

“Well, Neil,” Andrew said, setting the chair on all fours again. “I’ll make you a deal.”

He eyed the blond in silence, sure this was some kind of trap. His father had made a deal with him, once, and Neil had gotten a hot iron to the shoulder when he hadn’t been able to hold up the impossibility of his end.

“Tell me who you’re running from and why, and I’ll make sure they don’t lay a finger on you.”

Neil remained silent for a long moment as he stared. “You can’t expect me to believe that,” he said, unable to keep from glancing towards the window. If he refused, Andrew would probably resort to using his knife to get whatever he was after. “Even if I did,” he continued, forcing his eyes back to the blond, “their finger isn’t what I’d be worried about.”

Something dark flicked through Andrew’s gaze before his expression blanked completely. “I’ll make sure they don’t harm you,” he amended. 

“Right. Cause a pint-sized human is going to be able to fend off an army of assassins.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “Assassins don’t travel as an army. It rather defeats their purpose.”

Neil glared, shifting and stretching enough to make sure there really were no lingering injuries in his body. There wasn’t even a pulling sensation aside from the usual spot in his shoulder. “Doesn’t matter,” he replied. “Unless you’ve got the blessing of the Daystar or something, there’s no way you can protect me.”

“Fucking Daystar,” Andrew said, but he didn’t seem anything but calm and indifferent when Neil glanced at him. “He couldn’t protect you even if he wanted to.”

“Then what makes you think you can?” The Daystar was one of the most powerful mages in existence. Some even said he was a god, but Neil didn’t believe in gods. Not once in his life had he seen any kind of evidence to prove they existed. 

“What makes you think I’m human?”

Neil blinked, hiding a flinch at the warning tingle in his fingers when he didn't immediately respond. At least it wasn’t a dangerous question, so he had no reason to fight answering it. “You look human.”

Andrew flicked his fingers in a lazy gesture towards Neil. “You look like a rabbit, but you’re not.”

Neil froze, eyeing the window again. His appearance might have been due to a simple glamor, but it should have been foolproof. He’d pickpocketed a lot of money to ensure he could afford the most expensive spellcaster. But then, he’d been found so easily at the last town he passed through. What had he done wrong? 

He’d spent the first decade of his life learning his father’s business of dealing in blood-oaths. Then his magic manifested. The last six years, he’d been locked in the cellar with the curse his father had ordered cast on him. He’d never spent more than a few minutes with anyone his own age, and only while on the run the past few months had he even met anyone not associated with his father. 

He didn’t know the first thing about surviving on his own. If someone had been able to track him this entire time, then nowhere was safe. Even if he got away from Andrew, he didn’t have anywhere to go. He had an uncle somewhere, but he didn’t know where or how to contact him. Or even if his uncle would be willing to help.

Soul-deep exhaustion sank its teeth into him and he slumped against the headboard. If he left here, he’d be dead inside another month. He wasn't sure how he'd even survived this long. Andrew might not be able to protect him in the end, but if he was willing to try, Neil might at least live a few weeks longer than he would on his own. 

“I don’t know who’s after me,” he said, pulling his knees up and crossing his arms over top of them. “I’m pretty sure my father’s dead.” The fire that had exploded from Neil blew the cellar walls to pieces, and by the time he made it out of the house, the entire building was engulfed in bright flames. “Any of his men who survived either want me dead or…” He hesitated before deciding it didn’t matter if Andrew knew. “Or they want my magic.”

“Why?”

Neil shook his head and shrugged. “They said I was powerful, but I could barely even summon my magic on my own until a few months ago. I don’t know what they wanted my powers for.” He flicked his fingers, still blue with the effects of the curse. “They were trying to get me to remember things. Past lives. They said I had all the answers to the universe,” he said with a soft, derisive snort. 

“Who was your father?”

He flinched and pulled his knees tighter to his chest. He clenched his teeth, ignoring the spasm of burning pain starting in his fingertips. “If I tell you, you won’t back out of the deal?”

Andrew looked at him like he was stupid. “The deal only works if you tell me what I need to know.”

Andrew could only say that because he didn’t know who Neil’s father was, or the power he held, even in death. Neil hissed as the pain started to intensify. “He was known as the Butcher,” he said, swallowing a groan of relief as the pain flared and finally eased up. 

When he risked a look at Andrew, he didn't look like the name mattered at all. Maybe Neil had traveled further than he thought. Maybe his father wasn't as powerful as he claimed and had no authority here. "He rules from the shadows-" he started, because he had to make sure Andrew understood, even if it meant losing his protection. 

"I know who he is," Andrew said, before Neil could say anything further. 

Neil blinked. "Then you know you can't protect me." 

Andrew stood, picking up the chair and setting it against the wall. When he turned back to Neil, he leaned over enough to grasp Neil's chin. "You are safe here." 

Neil opened his mouth to protest, to say that nowhere was safe for him, but Andrew jabbed a finger at his forehead before he could get the words out. 

"Safe," Andrew said, expanding the word into two syllables and punctuating each with a hard jab. "Get that through your thick skull. I am not saying it again." 

He slapped Andrew's hand away with a glare. "You can't possibly be serious." He watched Andrew walk to the door like he didn't have a care in the world. How could he be completely unaffected if he really knew who Neil's father was? 

Neil lurched forward onto his knees, clenching his fists in the covers. This wasn't real. This house, the bed, Andrew… They were all just a dream. A spell his father cast on him to give him a taste of what escaping him might be like. It wouldn't last long. Tearing slivers of hope away from Neil had been one of his father's favorite tortures. 

Any minute, he'd wake up in that cellar again, with fire held to his face or feet until his magic responded enough to activate the curse. After that would come the questions he never knew the answer to, and then more creative torture when the curse proved faulty. Obviously it wasn't working if it accepted "I don't know" as the truth.

Andrew glanced back when he reached the door. "If you get lost, call my name." And then he was gone, leaving Neil alone with his thoughts and a moment to breathe easily for the first time in years. 

He slumped against the bed again, watching the door. The bed felt real, solid and warm with his body heat, but the true indicator that this wasn't a spell was the lack of pain. Even through the illusions of places his father would show him, would say he could see for real, if he would only tell them what they wanted to know, there was always the pain of half-healed injuries from the last torture session. 

They'd always been careful to heal him enough to keep him from dying, but that was the extent of their mercy. 

He tugged the covers over himself and pulled his knees to his chest again. Four months on the run and he was already at his limit. He couldn't do this alone, but no one in their right mind would help him knowing who he was. 

Maybe Andrew was insane. Neil was certainly crazy for even wanting to believe him, but… 

_You're safe here._

No one had ever told him he was safe. Not even his mother. After his father cut her tongue out for trying to remove the curse, she hadn't been able to tell him much of anything anymore. 

Neil shoved the memories away and crawled out of bed. His cleaned clothes were in a pile on the bedside table, but his shirt was little more than shreds. His pants were still intact, so he traded them for the too-big sleep pants he'd been dressed in. 

There wasn't much else to the room, but he wasn't ready to try his luck with the door yet. If he found it locked from the outside, he might finally break. He went to the window instead and pushed the curtains open. 

The sun was still low enough to be morning, but it was the fluffy white stuff falling from the sky that caught his attention. He hadn't seen snow since he was a kid. The glass fogged with his breath, obscuring his view, so he unlocked the window. Before he could open it, a sharp squawk startled him enough he nearly pissed himself. 

He stumbled back as something swooped towards him, throwing his arms up to defend against the large wings battering at his head. What the _fuck_? "Stop!" He fumbled for his pillow and swung, but the bird dodged and came at him again. 

This was almost worse than being locked in a cellar. 

"Andrew!" he yelled, swinging again and clipping a wing, which didn't seem to faze the bird in the least. 

The door opened a moment later and Andrew stepped in. He looked from Neil to the bird and crossed his arms. "I said call if you got lost. Not if your escape attempt was thwarted." 

Neil watched the bird settle on the curtain rod, where it started preening itself like it hadn't just been trying to claw his eyes out. "I wasn't trying to escape," he snapped, turning his glare and pillow on the blond. 

Andrew raised an eyebrow. 

"...I wanted to see the snow." Andrew glanced at the window, but Neil continued before he could respond. "Why would I need to escape? Am I a prisoner?" 

"No. But if you want to leave, go out the front door." Andrew turned, leaving the door open as he left again. 

Neil hesitated, eyeing the bird as he moved towards the door. When he reached it, he chucked the pillow at the feathered demon and slammed the door shut to keep it inside. He felt a small bit of satisfaction when he heard feathers against the door and hoped it knocked itself out. 

He turned and followed after Andrew, counting four doors before he reached the stairs. He paused as he heard voices and went down as silently as he could. 

Other than Andrew, Neil saw six others at a large table filled with food. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs to watch, and it took him a full minute to realize the light around them wasn't coming from the large windows behind them. He hadn't noticed with Andrew, he'd been too distracted by everything else, but every single one of them had a bright aura that spoke of powerful magic. 

Even the mage who'd put the glamor on him hadn't had much of an aura. To see seven people who could probably give the Daystar a challenge was unheard of. 

Where the hell was he? 

A strangled sound from a doorway across the room caught his attention and he spun, his world tipping further into the unbelievable when he saw a man with an even brighter glow. On his left cheek was the unmistakable, glowing mark of a sun. 

"Daystar," Neil whispered. 

The Daystar eyed him, a frown tugging at his lips. "Is that my shirt?" 


	3. Chapter 3

Andrew felt the start of a headache forming the moment Neil called his name. The fact Neil and McNugget got along as well in this life as the last was zero comfort, and he refused to babysit either of them. 

He managed to get a cup of coffee filled before the rest of the gods finally noticed their guest. He eyed Kevin at the question about his shirt and answered with a simple "Yes," while everyone else was too startled to speak. 

Unfortunately, the silence didn't last long. 

"Is that-" Matt started. 

"No way," said Dan, at the same time Allison cackled and pointed at Nicky with a "Pay up, bitch." 

Renee and Erik were the only ones who seemed unsurprised. Renee's reaction, Andrew expected; very little could surprise a goddess who saw glimpses of possible futures. Erik, he chalked up to the fact he could count on one hand the times anything managed to surprise him. 

"You're really him," Neil said, taking a step closer to Kevin. 

If Andrew cared enough to roll his eyes, seeing Neil as obsessed with Kevin as ever would have been an eye-rolling-worthy moment. 

Kevin pointed a finger at Neil's chest and glanced around the room, finding Andrew. He opened his mouth as if to spout something that was sure to be obnoxious, but his eyes cut back to Neil with a startled expression of recognition. He dropped his hand, looking Neil over. 

Nicky looked between the two of them and Andrew before pointedly clearing his throat. "There's food if you two are hungry." He turned his attention to Neil and motioned at the food. "Eat up… uh, what's your name?" 

Neil finally managed to look away from Kevin, pausing on Andrew as he looked around. "Neil," he said, like he didn't quite believe that was his name. Considering who his father was, Andrew knew it wasn't, but he'd known the heart of flame by a few dozen different names at this point. One more was nothing. "I'm Neil." 

"Well, eat up, Neil." 

Andrew sipped his coffee, ignoring Kevin's stare for a full minute before finally looking at him. 

Kevin took that as an invitation to move closer. "He's cursed." 

"What else is new." 

Kevin sighed. "I can't remove it." 

"I didn't ask you to." He expected the spectacularly bland repartee to continue, but a sudden "Don't!" from Neil and the crash of a chair hitting the floor ended it. 

Andrew swept a look across the table, landed on Nicky's guilty expression, and moved. Four seconds later, he had a knife to Nicky's chest. "What did you do?" 

"Noth-" Nicky started, grimacing and backtracking when Andrew put pressure on the blade. "I was just testing his aura, I swear!" 

Andrew glanced at Neil, finding he looked as angry as he did concerned, his eyes focused on Andrew's knife. "Don't do it again," he said, stepping back and sheathing his blade. He didn't miss Erik's arm going around Nicky before he went back to his coffee. 

Renee straightened Neil's chair and offered him a smile before retaking her seat. 

"You're really the flame?" Nicky asked, because even after a millennia, he never learned to shut the fuck up. 

Neil pressed his lips together and sat on the edge of his seat, looking ready to run the moment he found a reason to. "That's what I'm told." He looked over the food before picking up the bowl of fruit. The way he set to devouring all of it, including the bananas that were still green, was enough everyone fell into an awkward silence. 

"You're going to make yourself sick," Kevin said, which, unsurprisingly, made Neil slow down. It also served to break the tension, and the others resumed their conversations. 

Andrew drank his coffee. He didn't need sleep as a general rule, but being awake all night with a semiconscious, feral Neil had frayed his nerves. He made it to his third cup before his brother finally joined them, looking far worse than Andrew felt thanks to a black eye. 

"Damn," Matt said, "the hell happened to you?" 

Aaron scowled, shooting a glare at Neil and sitting in the furthest chair away from him. "I was attacked by a rabid animal." 

Neil glanced up from picking at the few berries left in the bowl, studying Aaron's black eye with a curious look. "Was it the bird? It nearly got me, too." 

Andrew ignored the coughed laughter from the others and set his empty cup aside. Neil glanced his way, and he met and held the not-rabbit's gaze a moment before leaving the room. He wasn't surprised when Neil followed, catching Andrew as he was pulling on a jacket. 

"Are you leaving?" 

"Checking the damage you did last night," he replied. 

Neil glanced at the door. "Can I come?" 

Andrew looked Neil over before grabbing Kevin's coat and tossing it at Neil's stupid face. Nicky's boots followed. 

Once Neil was sufficiently dressed for the weather, Andrew headed out. He would have preferred taking McNugget, but she rarely accepted Neil's presence until he'd proven himself worthy. He still wasn't sure himself if this version of the flame was as… compatible with him as previous ones. 

Neil fell into step beside him in silence, the sound of snow scrunching beneath their feet echoing around them. After a few minutes, he finally spoke up. "Why are you helping me?" 

Andrew eyed Neil from the corner of his eye. More often than not, that was usually one of the first questions between them. Considering the endless cycle of shit lives they both seemed to be born into, it was to be expected. "Why did you say I should kill you?" 

Neil shrugged. "You know who I am. Killing me would save you a lot of trouble." 

There was an understatement for the ages. "That's why." He ignored the weight of Neil's stare and continued walking, waiting to see if Neil could piece his meaning together. They may have just met, but if Neil had truly tapped into his power, he should be able to subconsciously access other parts of his past selves as well. 

Neil's steps slowed and came to a stop. When Andrew turned to face him, Neil looked ready to run again. "You knew who I was when you found me." 

It wasn't a question, so Andrew didn't bother answering. 

Neil frowned. "Because you sensed my magic? Or recognized it?" he asked, shifting his feet. 

Andrew didn't miss the subtle movement or the way it positioned Neil at an angle to escape. "Yes," he said, since both were true. 

He never really got tired of seeing how quickly the heart of fire started to understand him.

"It's true then?" Neil asked softly, shoving his hands into the coat pockets. "This magic or soul or whatever. I keep dying and coming back as someone else?" He looked away from Andrew, staring past the trees. 

The dark look in Neil's eyes was familiar. Andrew could guess at his thoughts: If he was going to be reincarnated, why did he have to come back to this kind of life? It was probably for the best that Neil rarely remembered many details of his former lives. 

Andrew let Neil sulk a moment, waiting until he was sure Neil's instinct to flee had passed, before turning to continue towards the barrier and the disturbed flora. He kept Wheeler's Dwarf and Lily of the Valley along the inside to mark the border, since both could survive well on their own even in winter. 

Neil had crashed through a section with both, but the damage wasn't as bad as he'd expected. Most of the plants were only crumpled and would still thrive. A few were torn or broken, so he turned his attention to them. He may have started out as a god of darkness and the moon, with a brief life as goddess of the hunt, but he'd picked up other elements through his lives as much as the others had. 

A soft glow of nature magic trickled from his fingers, coaxing life back into the crushed plants and mending the torn ones. The bloodstains were mostly covered with snow and he left them for nature to absorb, wiping the rest off the plants. 

Neil squatted next to him, eyeing the last of the blood with more disinterest than was likely healthy, considering he was its source. "I really should leave before they track me here." 

Andrew moved, partly out of a twinge of annoyance, and hooked his finger in Neil's coat zipper as a weightless anchor. "Stay." 

The white puffs of Neil's breaths stopped, and Andrew ignored the phantom tingle along his arms and the back of his neck, the moment settling around them. 

Rituals were their own kind of magic. Spells woven by and between souls, carried from one life to the next. 

He hated the way his heartbeat skipped and came back faster, like standing on the edge of a precipice. 

Their eyes met and Neil's breath shuddered out of him. He would protest, Andrew knew. It was too soon to be expecting anything like trust between them. 

Neil opened his mouth, the moment already dissipating like fog, but he stopped and tilted his head instead. Magic pulsed in his eyes, turning them the golden red of a sunset. "I  _ know _ you," he said softly. 

"Yes." 

"Artemis." 

Andrew tightened his fingers on the coat. "I don't like that name." 

"Patroclus." 

"Or that one." 

The corner of Neil's lips twitched. "Great Hobbit of the North." 

"Why do I put up with you?" 

Neil gave up fighting the smile and rocked forward. "Because you hate me?" he said lightly, the magic fading as his eyes returned to the color of a clear winter sky. 

Andrew shivered beneath the magic of another ritual. "Every fucking inch of you," he said, tugging Neil close enough to kiss. 


	4. Chapter 4

The sun was well past highsun before Neil followed Andrew back to the mansion. He hadn't noticed before just how big it was, but seeing it from the outside, he couldn't believe he hadn't seen it while running. Then again, he'd been delirious with blood loss and was sure he'd seen a giant dragon coming for him before Andrew found him. 

He kicked snow off his shoes and brushed more out of his hair once inside. It'd started snowing again just when things were getting interesting, forcing them to head back. 

His lips still tingled from the countless kisses and there was a restless energy buzzing along his nerves. 

Andrew disappeared upstairs and Neil glanced around as he listened for signs of the others. At least three of them he could hear talking in a nearby room. He hesitated, flexing his fingers. The last of the curse had worn off, so he wouldn't be forced to give the truth to any questions, but he also felt restless enough he didn't want to sit and chat, so he headed away from them to explore. 

What few memories had surfaced earlier had already faded, but the conviction that he could trust Andrew remained. Even if he couldn't remember them, he had the impression they'd shared at least a dozen lifetimes. 

Knowledge and understanding were slower to fade. He might have known he was the heart of fire before, but that never _ meant _ anything to him until the brief flood of memories. 

Most souls returned to the aether when they died, disintegrating and reforming before finding a new life. For souls like his, they remained intact. Countless memories and emotions and beliefs, held together by the magic the soul was first born from. 

The irony of finally finding some of the answers his father wanted so desperately, only after killing him, escaping, and nearly dying himself, wasn't lost on him. 

He would die a thousand more times, in lifetimes he would never consciously remember, but his father was gone for good. Maybe his soul would eventually burn out beneath the weight of so many compressed moments, but that sounded like a problem for his future self. 

He'd finally found freedom in this life. He wasn't going to waste time inventing a purpose for himself yet. Especially when he didn't expect to live long. 

If Fate had a plan for him, it would stab him in the back sooner or later. 

For now, he wandered through the mansion, opening doors and occasionally exploring the rooms he found. It wasn't until he closed the door to a bathroom, then reopened it to see if there was a towel for his damp hair, that he realized the doors were magical. Instead of the bathroom, he found a linen closet. 

He snagged a towel before closing the door. When he opened it again, it was still the linen closet. The third time was the same, too. Maybe he'd imagined it, but when he went back down the hall to the last door, it was still the laundry room. And when he went back again, the bathroom had returned. 

He was tempted to call for Andrew and ask what was going on, but it wasn't important. And part of him wanted to figure it out on his own. Or was he rediscovering it? Had he been here in a past life? The house and woods around it felt old, tucked away near the mountains, and magic could make it last for ages. Did Andrew keep the magical barrier around it so it was protected between his lifetimes? 

Better yet, how did Andrew remember him? Was he another eternal? Even with the memories from earlier, he never got a sense of what exactly Andrew was. 

He'd been so caught up in the fact someone recognized and knew his "heart of flame," he hadn't considered how it was possible.

And then there'd been the kissing. 

His lips tingled at the memory and he ran his fingers against them. He may not have ever had the chance to kiss someone before, but there'd been the rare span of days where no one came to torment him, leaving him to his idle fantasies and plotting his escape. 

Kissing Andrew was something he wouldn't mind experiencing again. 

The sound of an explosion and a curse down the hall startled him. His first instinct was to run. Maybe his father had lived after all and had finally found him. But then a door opened, vomiting purple smoke and Daystar into the hall. 

Daystar.

He still couldn't believe the greatest magician of the era was _ right here _ . Though seeing him choking with a hand braced on the wall left a bit to be desired when compared to all the stories. He stepped closer when the smoke started to dissipate. "What happened?" 

Daystar glanced up, wiping yellow smudges of powder off his cheek. "The spell didn't work," he said, sounding annoyed, and disappeared back into the room. 

Neil followed, lingering at the door as he looked inside. The room was huge, taken up by three large tables, all covered in books and bottles and jars. Most had colored liquid or powders inside. Some looked like they had live insects. Others had… things he didn't try to identify. 

Daystar stood at the far table, writing in a notebook with a feather quill in one hand, and dumping the blackened remnants of a bottle into a cauldron with the other. The brown liquid flashed blue and spit out red smoke, and a moment later Daystar plucked out a sparkling clean bottle. 

"Neat," Neil said, drifting closer. He didn't particularly enjoy magic after the past years of torture, but he'd always felt a kind of draw to it. The energy and power and freedom it offered. And then he'd been cursed, and he couldn't even cast a simple cantrip without pain and being forced to answer any question directed at him. 

Daystar studied him with a frown, but he didn't tell Neil to leave. 

"What are you making?" 

"...I'm trying to remove this," Daystar replied, gesturing to his face and the glowing mark on his cheek. 

"What? Why? It's a mark of your power." 

Daystar sneered. "It's a curse," he snapped. 

Oh. "Curses can't be cured." His father had made sure to use some of the oldest rules for his curse to make sure Neil never got free of it. 

"Of course they can," Daystar said, giving him a look that managed to be condescending. "You just have to know how the curse works." 

Neil moved close enough to stand near the table. "How does yours work?" 

"...It sabotages my magic." 

Neil looked from Daystar to the bottles and books on spellwork. "And you're still trying to cure it yourself?" 

"Yes." 

Neil drummed his fingers on the table, looking up at Daystar and the glowing mark. If his curse could only be broken by a spell, he'd never be able to break it. Not if his magic was always sabotaged. At least, not by himself. "I'll help." 

Daystar frowned. "Why?" 

He shrugged and crossed his arms. "At least one of us should be free of their curse. And you're the best magician in the world." 

"No, I'm not," Daystar murmured, the change in his tone making Neil look up again. "The heart of fire usually has me beat." 

Neil blinked as the strange pulse of magic returned with more memories, this time featuring Daystar. Champions of the Games. Normal friends in a normal life. Brothers in arms on a battlefield, seeking comfort in each other and a brunette he knew was a past Andrew. Business rivals in a small town. There was even a memory of a female assassin who enjoyed moonlighting as an exotic dancer. 

"I _ know _ you, too," Neil murmured, not as surprised as he would have been yesterday to find out he'd been Daystar's lover in a past life. He tilted his head as the memories started to fade. "Are you and Andrew together?" 

Daystar glanced away, but not before Neil caught the hint of red creeping up his cheeks. "Not currently." He tapped his quill against his notebook, staring across the room. "I'm," he started, hesitating and looking at Neil a moment before shrugging. "The Trojan King." 

"You don't look like a King," Neil replied, smirking at the dark look his quip earned. Somehow, the more he learned of his past lives and understood how they were intertwined with these people he'd stumbled into, the more relaxed and at home he felt. "So you're with the King?" 

He didn’t know much about the Trojan King Jeremy Knox, but he'd passed through one of his allied cities a month ago. No one had an ill word to say about the King. Neil hadn't been convinced of their sincerity, but if Daystar liked him, Jeremy was probably kind to a fault. There'd been a lifetime he and Daystar were friends, and Daystar had taken a blindingly pure and kind male as a lover. 

Probably the same soul. 

Daystar sighed. "It's complicated." 

"Why, does he have another lover?" he asked, picking up a bottle with green liquid and swirling it. The light refracted in a rainbow that was almost blinding. 

"Yes." Daystar took the bottle and set it back in its place. "And so long as I have this mark, I can't go near either of them. They're both eternals like you. I'm not leading Ares to them." 

"Ares? Who the hell names someone after a god?" 

Daystar looked at him with a familiar frown Neil had grown immune to after their first lifetime together. "He is a god. We all are." 

Neil went still as a few more big pieces snapped into place. That would explain the insane magical auras. Just behind the shock of  _ gods actually existing, _ was the thought that even if his father still lived, there was surely no way he'd be able to go up against one god, let alone several. 

Maybe he could actually believe Andrew. 

Maybe he was safe here. 

He picked up the sparkling clean bottle and turned it between his hands. "So, you break your curse, and you can go be with the King?" 

"...Yes."

Neil hummed softly and looked around the room. He knew his own curse couldn't be broken, but that didn't matter. He was just happy to have finally gotten free, but if there was a chance for Daystar… 

He could probably mix some potions together without too much trouble. "So what do you need help with?" 


	5. Chapter 5

Andrew expected Neil's presence to cause a bit more chaos, but even after four days, the worst to happen was Neil antagonizing his brother enough he stormed out. Aaron still hadn't come back, not that Andrew particularly cared. His brother's tantrums were more amusing than anything these days. 

He wasn't surprised that Neil had taken to locking himself away in Kevin's magic lab for most of the mornings and afternoons. Or that Neil sought Andrew out after dinner to spend the evenings talking or making out. 

Andrew spent the rest of his time avoiding the others, all of whom seemed adamant about sticking around now that the flame had rejoined them after three decades. 

He'd sent McNugget to scout the nearest city yesterday. The Moriyamas were gathering a small force, though Roland still couldn't give him much information on who their next target was. Or if Ares really was hiding among them. Honestly, he wasn't sure if Roland was even worth the price he paid for being his spy in the city anymore, but Zeu-Wymack was off dicking around again. 

He wasn't sure what Wymack saw in Abby - she seemed to be a normal human woman without even a hint of magic - but he'd been obsessed for a few years now. 

Andrew flicked ash off his cigarette, taking a final drag before putting it out. He shut the window and grabbed a second sweater, hugging his arms against himself to ward off what chill his heating spells couldn't take care of. 

Neil was late; they'd eaten dinner an hour ago. Not that he was keeping tabs. Even if he might not hate Neil's company, he didn't need to spend every night with him. 

That didn't keep the next door he opened from leading him to the library. Wall-to-wall shelves took up two floors across a large enough space he couldn't see from one side to the other, but he could sense Neil somewhere above him. 

He headed up the closest spiral staircase, enjoying the scent of old books and the fact this was one of the warmest places in the entire mansion. It didn't take long to find Neil, hidden behind a stack of books on a table. The few titles and covers he could see were on magic and spell work or potions. 

Kevin's doing, he was sure. He hadn't missed the vast quantities of his herbs disappearing the past few days. At this rate, he was going to have to get Erik and Renee to boost their regeneration speed. 

He moved around the table and the half-story tall stack of books to find Neil with his nose buried in one. "You'll go blind reading like that." 

Neil snapped the book closed and slid it aside, glancing up with that familiar rabbit-ready-to-run expression. It cleared a moment later when he focused on Andrew. He blinked, glancing at the clock with a frown. "I lost track of time." 

Andrew raised an eyebrow, reaching for the book and pausing when Neil kept hold of it. "...This isn't a spell book," he guessed, intrigued at the color creeping up Neil's neck. "Are you going to let me see?" 

Neil made an interesting, strangled noise before letting go. 

He waited a few seconds to see if Neil would grab it again before picking it up. The title  _ Everything You Need to Know About Your First Time Doing Anal  _ greeted him in obnoxiously bright yellow lettering. 

Nicky. This one hundred percent had his name written all over it. Literally. When he flipped open to the first page, one of Nicky's old names was scribbled in the corner. 

"This is the best one you could find?" Andrew flipped through the pages, secretly impressed with the detailed guides and the picture diagrams. 

Neil shrugged, staring hard at an empty spot on the table. 

Andrew tossed the book aside and slid into the empty spot to sit. He settled his legs on either side of Neil's chair and leaned forward, grasping Neil's chin. "Do you want to have sex?" 

Neil shrugged again, staring at Andrew's chin. "Maybe. Only if you do." 

He shifted his hold enough he could brush his thumb against Neil's lips. Touching was still an iffy thing for him, but it was easier with Neil. On good days, at least. "I'm open to it." 

Neil's lips parted, his tongue darting out to wet them and catching the edge of Andrew's thumb. "Then yeah… I think I'd like to try it." 

"You think?" Andrew asked, raising an eyebrow when Neil caught Andrew's thumb with his teeth. 

"I want to try it," Neil said, more convincingly. "Whenever you do." 

Andrew hummed softly and leaned closer. "Tonight?" he asked, watching the way Neil's eyes widened, his pupils dilating a moment later. 

"Y-yeah," Neil answered in a whisper. 

Andrew pulled back and slid off the table. He made it halfway to the stairs before turning. Neil hadn't budged. He raised an eyebrow, waiting to see if Neil had changed his mind already, but Neil finally seemed to get the hint and lurched to his feet. 

He moved to the door near the stairs that usually led to a small office, but this time it opened up to his bedroom. 

"Do the doors just go wherever you want them to?" Neil asked, closing and opening the door again behind him. 

"With limits," Andrew answered, glancing back to see Neil staring at his bathroom. There was a tension in his shoulders that Andrew recognized as nerves, so he tended the fire in his fireplace until the flames returned. Then he kicked his shoes off and sat on the edge of the bed to wait. 

Forty seconds ticked by before he said, "My tub is not that interesting." Granted, it may have been a magic-imbued tub that spit steady streams of water along the sides, but it didn't warrant that kind of attention. 

Neil slowly shut the door before turning and moving to the bed. He pulled a leg up to sit sideways, facing Andrew. 

"Changing your mind?" 

"No…" Neil let out a slow breath. "It's just… I get the feeling we don't do this often?" 

"Have sex?" When Neil nodded, Andrew shrugged. "As often as both of us are willing and able." He reached up and rubbed a floppy rabbit ear between his fingers. When Neil would drop the damn glamor and show his true form was anyone's guess. "What are you really asking, rabbit?" 

Neil looked up with an exasperated expression and shrugged. "Nothing." He leaned closer, reaching up and stopping short of touching Andrew's cheek, waiting for a nod before pressing his palm against it. A faint smile touched his lips when Andrew leaned into the touch. "So, which position do you prefer?" 

"Weren't you the one reading about your first time doing anal?" 

"That info can be used for either position," Neil replied, poking Andrew's cheek. "But I don't mind receiving. You have lubricant?" 

Andrew sat back and flicked his fingers towards the nightstand. He let Neil look through the drawer for the oil and settled against the headboard to watch. 

He found himself watching the flame a lot each time they found each other, almost as much as he caught the flame watching him. 

Neil found the bottle and climbed fully onto the bed. He set the bottle beside the pillow and turned his attention to Andrew, sitting on his knees without moving closer.  Waiting for permission to touch was always something the flame caught onto quickly, and the more lifetimes they shared, the easier it was to slip into the nonverbal requests and consents. 

Andrew motioned Neil closer, until Neil was straddling his lap. It was a familiar position they'd used often the past couple of nights. He couldn't quite suppress the inaudible sigh of pleasure as Neil pressed closer. Having Neil in his lap was like having a personal heat source that blocked even the occasional cool draft the fireplace missed. 

He found Neil's wrists and lifted them to his head, humming as warm fingers tangled through his hair. And then they were kissing, and any worries about the Moriyamas, or whatever Kevin was working on, or his brother's tantrum, faded beneath the thrum of pleasure building in every inch of his body. 

Kissing the heart of flame never got old. Neither did hearing the noises he made when Andrew finally got uninhibited access to Neil's naked flesh. Or feeling the way he shivered beneath Andrew's hands and lips and tongue. Or the way he arched with pleasure when Andrew finally pushed into him, eyelids fluttering as soft moans grew louder. 

Andrew wasn't one for sentimentality, but intimacy was rarely as satisfying as it was with the flame. So if his fingers found Neil's and pressed his hand into the pillow, and his lips found Neil's to swallow his gasps as he came, it was all in the name of heightening pleasure. 


	6. Chapter 6

Neil knew he was smiling, but for once it didn't come from a maniacal panic or need to lash out. If anything, he was completely at peace, which brought its own kind of unease. Which he ignored. His body was warm and his limbs were beyond relaxed. He doubted he could even walk properly at the moment, and only partly because of the mild ache in his back. 

Not that he had any intention of walking anywhere. He was perfectly comfortable slouched against the pillows with Andrew half-sprawled across him. 

He lightly dragged his fingertips along Andrew's armband, following the definition of strong muscles from elbow to wrist. He traced over the sharp juts of knuckles and slotted his fingers in the spaces between Andrew's, letting them slip from his hold before following the same path back up. 

A soft thrum of content built in his chest as his palm skimmed over the back of Andrew's hand, relishing in having permission to touch for the moment. 

He wasn't sure what he expected to happen after having sex, but he definitely hadn't been prepared for the soft glow that surrounded… everything. Even the halo of magic that came from Andrew seemed softer, the edges muted. 

Was this what it was always like between them? Did their core magics somehow combine along with their bodies, or was this because of who he was in this life? Was it just their "first" times together, or would the fifth and tenth time be just as amazing? 

"You're thinking too loud," Andrew murmured, not lifting his head from Neil's stomach. 

Neil hummed, letting his hand stop as he reached Andrew's wrist again, absently rubbing his thumb against the bump of his wrist bone. "How many times have we done this?" 

"Had sex?" Andrew asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. 

He snorted and poked Andrew's arm, which was enough that Andrew finally tipped his head back to look at him. "This," he said, flicking his fingers, not quite sure how else to put it into words. 

"There is no this." 

"Yes there is, you dick," Neil replied, rolling his eyes. The words might have hurt, if it weren't for the amusement and _ rightness _ that settled over him. Like it was a familiar conversation. It was strange to think that they had the same conversations each time he came back as someone else. That he rediscovered all of this while Andrew never forgot. 

No wonder Andrew called him a nuisance and a menace. 

"This is nothing," Andrew muttered, settling back in with Neil as his pillow. 

Neil sighed and curled his other arm enough to run his fingers through Andrew's hair, enjoying his weight and warmth and solid presence. He could have stayed there for an eternity. His lips twitched at the thought and he tightened his fingers, gently tugging the soft blond strands as he said, "Good thing nothing lasts forever then, huh." 

Something close to laughter built just below his throat as Andrew, impossibly, stilled even further. Even the air in the room and the low flames in the fireplace seemed to freeze, before Andrew let out a slow breath and time returned to normal. 

Neil waited a few moments for a smartass response and fought a grin when there was only silence. "Oh? Did I win? Are you speechless?" 

Andrew made a soft noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl. "Shut your face." 

The laughter finally escaped and Neil slid both hands into Andrew's hair and tugged. "You can't shut a face, Andrew." 

Andrew made the growling sound again before moving, lifting up enough to drag Neil down so they were eye level. "You know what I meant." 

"Not a clue," Neil replied, biting his lip, though it did nothing to erase the grin plastered on his face. He didn't miss the way Andrew's eyes flicked to his lips and lingered there. He shivered, surprised at the effect that one single glance had on him. His entire body flushed with warmth, and he shifted his leg to press into Andrew's as amusement swiftly turned into arousal. 

Andrew stilled again before forcing his eyes away from Neil's lips and raising an eyebrow. "Looking for another round already?" 

Neil felt a flush creeping up his neck. How he'd gone from rarely thinking about sex to wanting to make out with Andrew whenever he had the chance was beyond him. Maybe it was just because of their connection. Or maybe the fact he _ knew _ Andrew, and could trust him. "If you are." 

Andrew slowly lowered himself on top of Neil again, and Neil tipped his head back for a kiss, sighing against Andrew's lips. 

Kissing Andrew was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. Granted, it wasn't like he had many good experiences to compare it to, but he doubted anything would ever match this. The slow, leisurely exploration of each other's bodies. The warm slide of tongues and shared breaths. Soft hair and warm skin and noses pressed to cheeks. 

How their bodies quickened at different paces, but it didn't matter, because they both wanted to reach the end together. 

"Roll over," Andrew murmured, trailing kisses along Neil's jaw. 

Neil blinked, trying to force his brain to perform the mundane task of translating words while Andrew nibbled on his neck. "Hnnghh?" 

Andrew pulled back, staring down at Neil with definite amusement in his eyes. "Roll over, hedonist." 

"Not a hedonist," Neil replied automatically, rolling onto his stomach. He blinked at the pillow and shifted until he was comfortable, wondering what Andrew had in mind when they couldn't even properly kiss like this, but then Andrew's lips were on the back of his neck and moving lower, and  _ oh _ . 

That was… interesting. 

Neil squirmed and clutched at the pillow, jumping when Andrew found an extremely sensitive spot between his shoulder blades. "Oh," he gasped, glancing over his shoulder. "Do that again?" 

Andrew huffed against the same spot, which felt almost as good, but the brush of warm lips and hint of teeth made Neil's entire body tighten and his breath stick in his lungs. 

"Breathe," Andrew murmured into Neil's skin, moving to a different spot. 

Neil dropped his head to the pillow with a shuddering groan, sucking in a deep breath before Andrew found another spot that started the whole reaction over again. The spot just over his ribs made his heel slam into Andrew's thigh. 

Andrew grunted something about tying him down, which did interesting things to Neil's stomach, despite his brain flinching away from the thought of any kind of restraint. Thankfully, Andrew solved the problem by pinning Neil's legs with his body, before resuming. 

He wasn't sure how long Andrew spent mapping out his back with lips and tongue and teeth, alternating between ignoring the mess of scars on his back, and tracing each one as if committing it to memory, but by the time Andrew reached his ass and thighs, he felt like he'd been running for days. His muscles were getting sore from flexing and even Andrew's breaths on his skin were on the verge of _ too much.  _

"Andrew," he gasped, his body shuddering as Andrew dragged his teeth against a spot on his inner thigh. " _ Andrew, _ " he groaned, his voice sounding wrecked even to his own ears. 

Andrew responded with a soft growl and stretched out over Neil's body, his chest pressing to Neil's back. His hand found Neil's, gripping his wrist and pinning it to the bed. 

Neil groaned and arched into Andrew, turning his head in an attempt to find Andrew's lips and sighing in relief when he found them. "Yes," he breathed, reaching his other hand back to tangle in blond hair. 

He expected Andrew to take that as permission to enter him again. He might have been a little sore, but that was nothing compared to the pain he'd endured and survived for years. But when Andrew finally moved, it was to slide between Neil's thighs. 

Andrew let out a shaky breath against Neil's neck. "Is this alright?" 

"Uh huh," Neil gasped, pushing his hips back. "Is it… Does it feel good for you?" 

"Yes," Andrew murmured, trailing kisses across Neil's shoulders. His free hand slid down Neil's side to his hip, pausing there before groping his ass. 

Neil failed to bite back the startled groan, surprised how different a hand on his ass felt like this. He squirmed and buried his face in the pillow, biting his lip as Andrew rubbed himself between Neil's ass cheeks. "Andrew," he gasped, shuddering at the answering growl against his neck. "Yes. Andrew," he moaned, clutching Andrew's fingers when they slid between his own.

Apparently, Neil got off on feeling Andrew's strength as he moved. Moreso on the barely audible sounds of pleasure, and the breaths on his skin that were growing steadily more erratic. The hand that found its way between him and the bed and wrapped around him didn't hurt either. 

Andrew dragged out the pleasure until Neil was barely coherent. Until every nerve ending seemed to spark at the lightest touch. 

The world narrowed until the only things that mattered were the bed holding him up and Andrew pushing him down. Magic pulsed just beneath his skin and, for a moment, he felt like he had all the answers to all of existence, if he only knew the questions. 

By the time they were both spent, Neil couldn't even find the strength to lift his head. He hummed as Andrew rolled them both away from the wet spot, his arms sprawled in front of him as Andrew pressed against his back. 

He closed his eyes with a smile, not fighting sleep as it crept over him. 

For once, he slept without nightmares, and woke rested and sore in the best ways possible. And alone in bed. With no blanket. He grunted and rolled into the warmth still lingering where Andrew had been, carefully stretching out his limbs. He expected to feel… sticky and messy, but after a bit more wiggling, he found he'd been cleaned up at some point. 

He smiled into Andrew's pillow, wrapping his arms around it with a sigh. Sex with Andrew was definitely… amazing. Something to add to his "always yes" list. 

He lazed there a few more minutes before finally sitting up, spotting Andrew smoking on the balcony. 

That explained where the blanket went, at least. 

He wrapped the sheet around himself and slipped outside to join Andrew. The snow hadn't melted yet, and there was a hint of more to come in the air. He tipped his face into the crisp breeze and closed his eyes, relishing the sensation of fresh, clean air on his skin. 

To think, he'd almost given up on ever having even a fraction of this freedom. And now here he was. With a "nothing" that came with amazing make-out sessions and sometimes sex, and working with Kevin the Daystar, and the others who felt like something close to what family should be. 

"That looks disgusting."

Neil opened his eyes and looked at Andrew. "What does?" 

Andrew flicked his fingers at Neil's face and only then did Neil realize he was smiling. 

He raised an eyebrow, turning and shifting closer until he was almost in Andrew's personal space. "You like it." 

Andrew pressed a finger into Neil's cheek, forcing him to look away. "You're getting on my nerves." 

Neil laughed and backed away. "You like that, too," he said, heading back inside and finding his clothes. He was starving anyway, so once he relieved himself and dressed, he headed downstairs. 

The others were already at the table, finishing up their own breakfasts, but their conversations quieted and died out as Neil fixed his plate and grabbed an empty seat. He didn't pay them much attention, too hungry now that he smelled food to care about anything but eating. 

At least until Nicky spoke up. 

"What's got you in such a good mood? You get laid or something?" 

Neil froze with a strawberry halfway to his mouth and looked up. How the hell did Nicky know? Did he smell like Andrew? Were there marks? His hand went to his neck, lightly pressing against the faint ache where he was sure Andrew had left a hickey, but it was covered by his shirt. 

Nicky's mouth dropped open as he stared. "No way. You did. Hot damn!" 

Matt looked at Neil with wide eyes, his bowl of yogurt forgotten. "Wait, what?" 

"Who was it?" Allison demanded. 

"It was Kevin, wasn't it?" Nicky piped up, leaning around Erik as he looked around the table. "He still asleep? You must have really worn him out," he added with a wink. 

Neil stared at them, pressing his lips together to keep silent. He didn't particularly care if they knew, but if they didn't know he was with Andrew, he sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to spill that secret. He wasn't sure how they didn't know if they were Andrew's friends, if they were all gods, but then again, it wasn't like Andrew would have told them anything. 

He glanced at Renee to find her trying to hide a smile behind her teacup. Well, at least she seemed to know the truth. 

Neil went back to his breakfast without a word, but Matt was still watching him. 

"Wait, what really happened?" Dan asked. 

"Yeah, there's no way I'm believing you had sex with Kevin," Matt said. 

There was a strangled sound near the stairs and Neil glanced up to see Kevin, who looked like he was still half asleep and utterly confused. 

Oh good, a distraction.

Neil picked up his plate of fruit and headed towards Kevin. "Come along, honey," he said, ignoring the sound of a couple forks dropping to plates as he headed to Kevin's study. 

Kevin was either kind enough or stunned enough to wait until the door closed behind them to say, "What the hell was that?" 

Neil shrugged and settled at the table to finish eating, refusing to let annoyance ruin his good mood. He pushed away the memory of the last ten minutes and focused on last night instead. The way Andrew had relaxed and been more open to touch than usual. The lips on his skin and the lingering aches all over his body. 

Warmth spread through his limbs and he picked up a slice of orange, biting into it and sucking the juices. 

"You had sex." 

"Why the hell does everyone keep saying that?" 

Kevin gave him a bemused look and made a vague gesture at Neil's face. "That's your 'just had sex' expression." 

Neil glared and ripped the stem out of a strawberry. "You're not planning some disapproving lecture, are you?" 

A crease formed between Kevin's eyebrows as he frowned, before he shook his head with a soft sigh. "No," he said quietly. "Unlike the war, indiscretion won't get you killed here."  He scrubbed a hand over his face. "I need coffee." 

Neil finished his breakfast in peace once Kevin left and set the bowl aside. Then he slumped against the table with a groan and closed his eyes. He was tempted to go back to bed. Or sneak back into Andrew's room to spend the day being lazy, but Andrew had seemed like he needed some time to himself. He certainly didn't have the patience to deal with the others being assholes who couldn't mind their own business right then. 

Maybe it shouldn't have annoyed him so much, but he didn't see why they were making such a big deal about his personal life. It wasn't anyone's business. 

Which meant spending the day in Kevin's study, or finding something to do on his own. 

He pulled Kevin's notebook closer and flipped through the latest notes for breaking his curse. The new spell looked similar to one they'd tried the other day, but it was still wrong. He didn't know how or why, but some deeper instinct told him this one would fail, the same as all the others. 

Maybe he was wrong. He didn't have much experience with spell work. As a kid, he'd learned blood magic and had hated every moment of it. Calling for the blood of someone to boil or explode out of their pores, or to bleed too fast from a gash left by a blade, always made his stomach turn. More often than not, he'd vomited his lunch near the large oak tree at the back of the house once training was done for the day. 

And then his fire magic had made itself known, and he'd felt relief and something like joy at finding he wouldn't have to follow in his father's footsteps. The relief had been short-lived; he'd ended up in the cellar soon after, with any intentional use of his magic resulting in blinding pain. 

He closed the notebook with a sigh and stood, slipping out of the room before Kevin returned. There was no point in wasting time and energy on something that was doomed to fail, so he headed to the library. Surely he’d find something there to help. 

If nothing else, he’d at least have some peace and quiet for a while. 


	7. Chapter 7

Andrew went through three cigarettes before he felt up to leaving his bedroom. The fact Kevin was waiting in the hall for him didn’t surprise him in the least, even considering he was usually holed up in his study with Neil by now. He would have passed by without a glance, if not for the mug of coffee Kevin held out to him. He paused, considering the pros and cons of telling Kevin to fuck off, and deciding the coffee was enough of a peace offering to hear him out. “What,” he said, taking the mug and wrapping his fingers around the blissful heat. 

“This isn’t going to change anything, is it?” Kevin asked.

Andrew raised an eyebrow and sipped the coffee. He knew Kevin meant Neil, but after a literal millennia of being stuck with each other, Kevin really should know better. “I haven’t forgotten our deal.” 

So long as Kevin was in Andrew’s domain, he was under Andrew’s protection. Even if Ares raised a literal army, Andrew would ensure Kevin’s safety. It was Kevin’s problem to deal with his curse. The only way Andrew knew of to break one was to kill the caster, and killing a god who didn’t want to be reborn was no easy task. He’d only heard of it being done once before, and ironically it was one of Renee’s past lives who accomplished the feat. And that had been a direct result of Renee’s original incarnation, circumstances, the environment of the moment, and no little amount of luck. 

As far as Andrew was concerned, this situation was best handled by waiting. Ares likely knew exactly where Kevin was - it was no secret he and Andrew had maintained close ties through the ages - but even Ares couldn’t be stupid enough to attack them directly. Then again, he’d been stupid enough to challenge Kevin in the first place, and then curse him after losing. 

He was starting to think Ares had been reborn one too many times; it was starting to affect his mind. 

Kevin stared at Andrew a moment before nodding and looking into his own cup of coffee with a frown. “You know he’ll come for me,” he said quietly.

“Let him.” Andrew wasn’t worried, he had more than enough defenses in place to handle a war god. And though he’d never admit it, having Renee and the others on hand would ensure they had enough firepower if Ares did somehow break through his shields. 

Andrew saw the way Kevin’s pinched expression tightened, and narrowed his eyes. “What are you hiding,  _ Daystar _ ?” 

Kevin flinched and looked up. “If he finds Neil-” he started, cutting off abruptly as Andrew stepped forward. 

Andrew knew exactly what one of the other gods would do if they got their hands on an eternal. He’d seen it before, and he knew he’d see it again, but not this time. Neil’s bad luck in any lifetime was a curse in and of itself. The fact Andrew had found him on the brink of death, with a curse from his father and assassins on his ass, might have been a bit excessive, but it was nothing new. If anything, it just added spice to a familiar dish. 

Kevin pressed his lips together with a scowl. "You'll protect him over me," he said softly. There was no accusation in his tone, it was a simple statement of fact. They both knew, if it came down to choosing between saving Kevin or saving Neil, Andrew would save Neil, if at all possible. Especially if Ares wasn't directly involved.

"You can't let him get his hands on Neil," Kevin continued. 

"I should just let him take you then?" Andrew asked, stepping back and taking a drink of his coffee. It was too early to be dealing with this kind of conversation. 

"I won't let him take me either." 

Andrew eyed Kevin, noting the stubborn set of his jaw and hard look in his eyes. Well, that was interesting. Finally, Kevin had rediscovered his damn spine. He wasn't too surprised by that either; the flame tended to have that effect on him. 

"Finally ready to fight?" he asked, before draining the rest of his coffee. Considering how well the day was starting out, he expected something would come crashing down soon. Bee would say he was being overly pessimistic, but he'd rather expect the worst and be tentatively relieved than be taken by surprise. 

Kevin swallowed hard and finally looked up to meet Andrew's eyes. "Yes," he whispered, quiet but fierce. 

In another lifetime, Andrew may have kissed him, but Kevin was currently devoted to the hearts of light and nature. He settled for a nod instead, and handed the empty mug back. 

Kevin being willing to fight didn't change much, but it was always the smallest details that lead to the most important developments. 

As if to prove that thought, McNugget chose that moment to return, crashing through his barrier with a squawk that went past audible into magical. Andrew gritted his teeth as it reverberated through him, before heading for the stairs with unease building in his gut. 

McNugget wasn't alone, and instinct and common sense told him that wasn't a good sign. 

When he reached the front door, McNugget was waiting for him, and Roland slid off her back, landing on the ground with a quiet groan. 

Roland straightened and met Andrew's eyes with a grimace. "They've declared war." 

Andrew didn't need to ask who "they" were. There was only one clan this side of the mountains with enough manpower and balls to declare war on anyone.

He titled his head towards the door, waiting for McNugget to return to a more manageable size and settle on his shoulder before turning. Roland was close behind, breathing an audible sigh of relief when he stepped into the warmth. Andrew didn't slow, heading to the living room where the others were gathered and snapping his fingers for attention. When they were all looking at him, he pointed to Roland. "Tell us what you know." 

Roland took a breath and nodded. "A week ago, rumors started to spread that Tetsuji had fallen ill. He hasn't been seen or heard from in nearly a month. Two days ago, Riko declared his uncle dead and assumed full control of the clan." He paused and cleared his throat. "Yesterday morning, they declared war on King Knox." 

Kevin let out a strangled sound, his mug of coffee clattering to the floor.

Andrew slanted a look at Kevin, but Nicky was already steadying him with a hand on his shoulder. He swept a glance across the room, noting the others had expressions of various stages of disbelief or anger. Most of them would want to fight. Whether Riko was truly a reborn Ares or not, the Moriyamas had been a thorn in their sides for decades. 

Andrew would have been content to let Knox handle the war himself, but there was no chance of Kevin staying out of it, especially now that he’d chosen to get his head out of his ass. He turned his attention back to Roland, ignoring the others’ outbursts when he saw the look on Roland’s face. “What else?”

Roland winced and looked at Andrew. “There was a new rumor that Riko has the blessing of Ares. And he’s found an eternal. The heart of storms.”

Well, that was all the proof Andrew needed. Ares didn’t often manage to get his hands on an eternal, but when he did, it was always one of the more powerful ones. Once, he’d even gotten his hands on the flame; several lifetimes ago, when Ares and Kevin were still on speaking terms. 

Speaking of the flame. Where was Neil? 

A quick assessment of the passive spells Andrew had in place told him Neil was in the library. He turned to the nearest door and closed it. When he opened it again, he stepped through and onto the second floor of the library.

Neil was at the same table as the day before, the piles of books even higher now, with more stacked on the floor. 

When Andrew rounded the table, he found Neil hunched over three large volumes. Finding they were all on spell work and curses, and not the Kama Sutra or another obscure sex manuscript, was almost as surprising as it was disappointing. More surprising was the tinge of blue creeping up Neil’s fingers and the acrid stench of ozone from his curse. “What are you doing?”

Neil jumped, looking up with wide eyes before glaring with a soft huff. “Researching,” he replied, turning back to the leather-bound tome in front of him. 

Andrew stopped beside Neil’s chair and flicked one of his blue fingers. “Why the fuck is your curse active?”

Neil pulled away, tugging the sleeves of his - Andrew’s - sweater over his hands without looking up. “I needed to be able to read these.”

Andrew suppressed a sigh. He hadn’t asked, and Neil hadn’t offered up any details about his curse, but he’d suspected it was tied to Neil using his magic, and had figured out it resulted in him not being able to lie. No matter the lifetime, the flame always had a tendency to bend the truth at best, and was an outright pathological liar at worst. 

“Have you found what you’re looking for?” Andrew asked, ignoring the more obvious lines of questioning. 

Neil’s shoulders relaxed marginally. “Not yet.” He pointed to the large tome to his left. “But there’s a chapter in here that looks promising. If you know where the missing page is.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow, reaching for the book. It was old, the pages yellowed with age despite the preservation spells woven into it. The writing was still legible, though it was a language he hadn’t seen since before the first great war. Once, it had been the shared language of witches, mages, and all magical creatures, though it fell out of use as bloodlines mingled and those who could use magic became more common. 

Neil reached over his arm and flipped to a passage marked with a scrap of paper. “Here. I think it talks about a way to seal a god, but the spell and ingredients are missing.”

Andrew hummed as he skimmed the text. It looked like instructions on imprisoning a powerful entity, but without the spell it was useless. He didn't recognize the book, but he also wasn't the only one who added to his collection. Unlike Nicky, the others tended to add helpful, valuable, or interesting books, rather than raunchy novels and gay sex tutorials. 

He flipped to the first page for a name, only to find a tiny blue demon drawn instead. One of his own books then, though he didn't remember bringing it here. Then again, he never remembered anything when in his alter form, and he had handfuls of blank spots in his memory. At least two of which he knew spanned years. Dark years of time he hadn’t wanted to remember anyway. Plenty of time to pillage books full of powerful spells. 

"Andrew?" 

He looked up to find Neil watching him, his head tilted with something close to concern. “I might know where the page is,” he said, against his better judgment. He hadn’t given up control to his other self in years, but if he was going to get pulled into a war, there was no sense in choosing to fight at half strength.

Neil’s concerned look deepened. “Alright,” he said slowly. “Is it safe to find it?”

Andrew snapped the book shut, squashing the faint stir of not-quite irritation at how easily Neil could read him. The only other one to ever accomplish that was Renee. “Debatable,” he replied, straightening and turning for the door. If he was going to give his alter form any amount of control, Renee would need to know. Just in case.

He heard Neil trailing behind him as he headed back through the door and into the living room. The others were hunched around the table with a map, arguing strategy. 

Renee glanced up at Andrew’s return and caught his eye before slipping away from the group. “What’s wrong?” she asked, taking the book when Andrew handed it to her in answer. She flipped through the pages, finding the one still marked with scrap paper. Her eyes widened as she read the page, running her finger down the center with a frown when she found the torn remains. 

“Signature,” Andrew said, before she could ask.

Her expression tightened when she flipped to the front and saw the mark. “Ah,” she said, carefully closing the book and handing it back. “I don’t have the page.”

No, he hadn’t expected he would have given it to her, if it had even been in the book when he’d gotten hold of it. As unpredictable as his other self could be, Andrew was still Andrew. That kind of spell, if he’d had reason to remove it and not destroy it, he would have hidden it somewhere only he could find. Either somewhere in the mansion, or a pocket of space tied to his magic, depending on who he was hiding the spell from. 

“The others have decided to intercept Riko,” Renee added when Andrew didn’t respond. 

“And the spell would help,” he said, handing the book to Neil by pushing it into his chest. He took a deep breath to fight a vague sensation of nausea.

“We can win without it,” Renee said. Too gentle and too understanding for Andrew to appreciate right then. 

He glanced at the others with a soft, derisive snort. “Can we?” He didn’t exactly doubt the others when it came to their will to fight, but through all their lifetimes and the legends tied to them, they’d never been heroes without paying a heavy price. 

Renee smiled. “Of course we can. They've already decided to trap him in the mountain pass, before he can get close to Knox's kingdom. But if you choose to look for the page, I’ll make sure the others remain safe.”

Andrew nodded and turned, heading for Nicky's room next. He didn’t exactly need anything to hand over control, but a little cannabis went a long way in easing the transformation, and he knew Nicky kept a stash for special occasions. 

The room was as neat and orderly as ever, and the chest in the corner was still there. The top drawer had a small bag right where it always was. He grabbed it and went through the closest door to return to the library. He cleared a spot on a table to put a joint together, focusing on the motions and deliberately ignoring Neil standing next to him. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Neil asked.

“Riko slash Ares is starting a war, and I’m going to find your spell,” Andrew replied, pulling out his lighter. He stopped when Neil’s hand hovered over his without touching, finally looking up at him. 

Neil started to say something before pressing his lips together. After a moment, he said, “Why do I get the feeling you’re leaving?”

That was certainly one way to put it; the flame had always had an uncanny ability to decipher people's motivations. He couldn't even say much in response since, in a sense, it was true. He didn't know how much his other self knew, if he'd even have access to their recent memories, while his current self lost the next… however long. 

"I said I'd keep you safe." 

"And what about your safety?" 

"This isn't dangerous." 

Neil glared at him, all righteous indignation, and Andrew would never admit to keenly noticing his martyr's absence when their life cycles separated them. 

Andrew stifled a sigh. His self-destructive habits weren't going anywhere, no matter how much he worked at getting rid of them. But this didn't feel self-destructive. Neil found one of the few books that could give them an advantage, could rid them of an enemy, at least for a while, and it was missing the one spell they needed. And it had one of Andrew's marks. 

He wasn't one to believe in coincidences, though he didn't believe in Fate either, at least not one that used gods as pawns. But something was at play. He could practically feel it breathing down his neck, and it was a familiar sensation. Similar to Actaeon, and Orion, and Drakon. To Troy. To a night that should have seen the end of a war and only saw more bloodshed. To a glade filled with poppy, and white puffs of dandelion seeds dancing on the wind, let loose by a boy with haunted blue eyes. 

Maybe it was the magics of an eternal and eight gods combining, pooling together and coalescing into something approaching sentient. Maybe it was some plan set into action from another lifetime. 

Whatever it was, he knew ignoring or fighting against its pull would only ensure a heavier price. 

"Neil," he said, "trust me." He hated the words the moment they left his mouth, too close to "please" for his comfort. But Neil backed down with a grudging sigh. 

Once Neil's hand moved away, Andrew lit the joint, took a deep pull, closed his eyes, and gave up control. 


End file.
